I love holidays. Not always for what the holiday itself represents, but for the opportunities to celebrate family traditions.
I look at these pictures and I think, "this is the stuff that my children's best memories will be made of." Yes, they'll be made of pumpkin guts :-) And togetherness. And fun. And silliness.
When my little clean freak baby saw people putting their hands in their pumpkins and pulling out the stringy goo, he picked up a napkin and tried using it to get the seeds out! He wasn't so sure about this messy process :-)
Ah, yes...the mandatory "pretend like you're eating the pumpkin guts!" shot. This tradition started with my family as a kid. There are countless photos of me as a child, with my dad appearing to serve me a big goopy spoonful of pumpkin insides!
I love the individual looks of all my kids' pumpkins. They get to design their own, and we do our best to carve it according to their wishes. Thomas, of course, got whatever Daddy wanted to carve this year.
They weren't satisfied to simply carve this year...the markers came out for extra embellishment after carving.
I love that my kids have a silly and fun Daddy. He can be tough. He can be firm. My kids know what to expect from him when they screw up. But the other day my kids were teasing me, and I teased back by saying "I'm going to call Daddy and have him come home to give you a whoopin'".
Long pause. Shifting eyes...looking at each other...looking at me...looking at each other again.
And then giggling. Hysterical silly giggles. The mere idea of Daddy "whoopin'" them was humorous. I love that they obey and respect him...but don't fear him. They climb up on his lap without hesitation and expect to be loved no matter what.
I got a good one :-)
Family time - babies still at home and wanting to spend time with us - tradition - Daddy's love - creative kids....what a joyous belessed life I live!
If you want to read about what brought others a little joy this week, head on over to this week's "Just for the Joy of it" and read on (and contribute some of your own joy).